Meet me in Montauk.

The Xx - Angels 

I'd love to live on the beach... but they don't have a Walgreen's there.

Just can't seem to shake this one loose...

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I marked the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

                                          -Robert Frost

If I'd have never known your name... I'd still be driving that old green Nova.

I've settled into my big gray hoodie and my country music. I am quite certain these things keep me safe. This week I've felt the cold chill of spindly fingers grasping at my neck and have made sure that comforts are never far. It has been a while since this feeling has creeped over me with such ferocious density. I could blame the cough I stole from someone else... or the schedules I've been keeping... the stress, oh momma... the stress, but ... I can't. Because I can't lie to myself. 

I wish I could find an eloquent way to describe this knot in my stomach. The why's and the how it got there's. I wholeheartedly believe that would make me feel better. A little verbal regurgitation... there's never any harm in that. Right... 

Fear. Breed by Vulnerability and shrouded in Shame and Insecurity. That's the best I can do. Sterile and technical. I used to despise Vulnerability. It's nasty little tendrils gripped fast and strong.  It wasn't until very recently that I was able to address that specific emotion for what it was. I just knew it as suffocating and overthrowing. It was only through the entanglement of a new presence in my life that I was able to realize it's name. The realization started with an occurrence... a situation... a complete 'uh-oh' moment. I began the recoiling process and started throwing things blindly in the dark from behind the fence I'd quickly built. But at some point, I took a deep breath and and stepped over the mess I was making and walked into the situation. 

You see, I have had this really nasty habit of just accepting certain situations and attitudes as they are, regardless of their effect on me. Of course... that can only last so long. Eventually, I implode at the re-occurrence of whatever disturbance is about and then eventually... I lose my mother loving mind. I snap. The air chills and I start scratching at anything near me. 

I spent the better part of last year discovering my inner darkness and confronting all of those monstrous parts we always fear lie within us. I do believe that was the most emotional strain I have ever encountered. It cannot happen again. I will not happen again. I cannot hold other people accountable for the way their actions effect me if I cannot express the pain it causes me to them... as it happens. Oh, the horror... openly expressing myself... my confusion... but... that would mean that I am displaying my insecurities... my fears... my vulnerability. I have never been able to do that...well, not until all those emotions have a thick shell of anger to hide behind. 

So, armed with this new awakening and still nursing my wounds, I stepped over that familiar mess, and I ousted myself. I laid out my insecurities. My jealousies. My struggles and my fears in my calmest of manners. I admitted my biggest faults and my weaknesses and waited for the door to slam. But instead... I was welcomed with the warmest hug and one of the first most authentic and real conversations I've ever known. Every hair follicle tingled. Every defense mechanism disarmed and that presence was right there and then, sealed to me in a way I'll always fail at communicating. Yes. Yes! This... this is what I have been wanting. Brutal honestly. Complete openness.  No shadows, no secret corners... just the most sacred bonding of understanding and complete acceptance. 

I sincerely love that presence and the effect it has on me, I just wish Everywhere had the same rules and Everyone understood the, albeit terrifying, but beautifully intense moments found while embracing ones vulnerability. I am imperfect and wired for struggle, as Brene says. I will always look for purpose and meaning in all my relationships and interactions. I am constantly looking for new ways to fall apart. It is through that process that I grow and through that growth I flourish. Being vulnerable is only my weakness if I treat it as such...

...but the most difficult part, is swallowing the fear and saying, "Fuck it. I am taking this risk. I am accepting these terrifying moments and I'm going to be grateful for them" that still stops me cold. Old habits are hard to kill and it's a struggle to not look at a significant piece of your past and think, but if I just let this time go and don't cause a conflict, I won't lose this. And oh, how I enjoy this... 

I am growing more and more afraid that I have been here... in this place... before, though. It never works well. It's just a matter of time, though, before I lose the fear and let the risk taking happen. It's a bittersweet, tortured state I keep finding myself in with him.

Art and love are the same thing; it's the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.

Awesome... 3 hours of writing and one swift flick of the keyboard washes it away.

It makes sense, though. That's just how it seems to roll. I finally find the words... and then they vaporize.

So, fine. Instead... lets listen to a song.

The Kills - Damned If She Do

I'm an artist... torture is a prerequisite.

Right here... at the tips of my fingers lie worlds of thoughts that refuse to materialize. I write and I delete. Write and delete. Etcetera etcetera etcetera.

I am not myself, you see. I'm acting out of order. Losing my footing. It's been a lovely fall, but the thoughts are kicking in. The doubts. The wondering. The anticipation. That always does me in. The fluttering butterflies can last against my skin for only so long before I start to question when they'll fade. I curse my inner cynic.

I'm not exactly sure where I would start... or even what I would say... I'm getting nervous. I'm just scared, I guess. There's a lot of cracks here and I just... would hate to slip into one.

So...I'm interested. In the possibility. In the unknown. 

[Title quote courtesy of Dawson's Creek... yes... Dawson's Creek]

Resonating.

Born.

Dave Gahan - Stay

Deceased.

Depeche Mode - A Pain That I Am Used To

Curiosity, that's what kills us. Not muggers or all that bullshit about the ozone layer. It's our own hearts and minds.

I'm sitting here watching Alice, a lovely little Woody Allen movie, and I've decided a couple of things: 

1. I want a jazzy band to follow me around. It appears that walking, drinking coffee, taking out the trash... the laundry even, are all far more delightful with a sax following me around. 

2. I need to spend more days in bed naked, smoking, talking of art and philosophy.

3. There must be laughter, even during the most torrid of moments.

4. Long walks. Studious introspection. Dramatic bouts of inspiration. All as necessary as water. 

During a 'hammer meets nail' style conversation this evening, I realized that in an ideal world I would live in a Woody Allen movie. Which one has yet to be determined, but I did find this particular one to be rather pleasant. 

[Title quote via Woody Allen]

I just can't listen to any more Wagner. I'm starting to get the urge to conquer Poland.

All evening I've been recalling the day's conversations, things I should have said... shouldn't have said... questions answered... ideas born...concerns rising; replaying events and over analyzing anything my mind will focus on. Because, yes. I need one more thing to do. 

There's a sort of unraveling happening these days. The bandages are being removed and soon the scarred aftermath will be all that remains. My heads a flutter, yet my mouth rarely moves and my fingers peck away at mere gibberish. I have lost my voice. Lost it. Long ago and I fear the struggle to regain it. God. I hate cliches, but they're so thick in the air these days. It's hard to breathe without catching one or two.

Tonight, I am raising my pretentious coffee mug and smug eyebrows with the sentiment that new chapters are a good thing. Change is a good thing. It is. And I have to embrace it entirely.

So, cheers, my dear.

[Title quote via Woody Allen]

Catching Conversations

I believe trust to be my biggest hurdle in life. I can blindly trust pure strangers, but after a conversation or two... Doubt creeps in. And oh, how it creeps. With its heavy steps and its hearty breath. 

I'm not sure I can say I've ever trusted anyone completely after a handful of conversations, let alone months and months of relationships. 

Wait. I take that back. There is one woman I trust completely. And it didn't start that way. Perhaps, it's her history. Or her brazenness. But I never doubt she has my best interests at heart when giving her opinion or trudging through the mud that is me. I guess you might say I love her, in as platonic a way one woman could another.

Relationships are murky. Mine especially. I have the best of intentions. But I jump too fast, I fear. I am blindsided by the seductive waters and their turbulent nature. The thrill breeds butterflies and their careless nature is ever so appealing. 

Innocence is lost upon our first breaths. Nothing is ever without change and consequence, is it?